


Aquila goes to Britannia

by chantefable



Category: The Eagle of the Ninth - Rosemary Sutcliff
Genre: Abduction, Adventure, Bandits & Outlaws, Centaurs, Friends With Benefits, Friendship, Gen, Humor, M/M, Magic, Moral Lessons, Nymphs & Dryads, Road Trips, Travel, fortune
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-01
Updated: 2015-06-01
Packaged: 2018-04-02 11:40:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4058662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chantefable/pseuds/chantefable
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Recently retired, Aquila is travelling to Britannia with a single slave and a cart full of worldly goods. Through nasty betrayal, he suffers an appalling accident, and is left alone, unfortunate and in peril. Subsequently, Aquila grows wise through contemplation of fate. He advances a good centaur's well-being by way of practical aid and sage advice given in a matter of honour of an abducted nymph. He finds his fortune restored, and continues on to Londinium a rich man.</p><p>A story in the style of the <i>Decameron</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Aquila goes to Britannia

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Isis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Isis/gifts).



_  
Recently retired Aquila is travelling to Britannia with a single slave and a cart full of worldly goods. An appalling accident befalls him, leaving the man alone, most unfortunate and in peril. By numerous chances, Aquila grows wise through contemplation of fate. He becomes a favourite with a powerful centaur on account of the sage advice given in a matter of honour of an abducted nymph, and continues on to Londinium a rich man.  
_

Fortune is tumultuous and powerful. Like a storm at sea, it swallows up honest men and spits them out wherever it suits her: at times on strange, bare shores, stripping them of riches, clothes, or honour itself; at times in lands joyous and prosperous beyond their wildest dreams, their well-being and dignity intact. But one must always bear in mind that the wheel of fortune is spinning very fast, and no matter how rough a tumble one has had from it, a good clutch of the spike will bring one straight up; and likewise, no matter how high one rises and how safe one feels on top, it can all come crashing down with a gust of the wind and a turn of the wheel. And so one must be watchful and quick-witted, because daring and consideration will get a man out of the direst circumstances.

A man by the name Aquila had spent many years tolling for the glory of the Empire as a military man, and, having left service in the Legions, decided to make a new home for himself in the province of Britannia, where his old friend Claudius Hieronimianus had risen to esteem and high position as Legate of the Sixth Victrix. With this dear friend Aquila had once enjoyed a most tender and cordial companionship. Although both of them had now significantly advanced in years, and had not met for a long time, they had established through correspondence that even should they now discover that neither of them shared the notorious preferences of the late Emperor Galba, they still wished to be near each other as steadfast friends. In this frame of mind, Aquila was prompt in packing all his possessions, which amounted to a modest cart stacked with not at all big trunks of crockery, clothing, and other items useful in the life of a civilian, as well as, of course, fine weapons. 

With this Aquila set out on a journey from Rome, accompanied by a single slave, a Gaul by origin, whom he had purchased specifically for this purpose. And indeed, for a long while they travelled safely, their passage unhindered by bad luck or malice. The slave proved to be a prompt man, sharp and useful. For instance, in Lugdunum, they had no trouble getting good accommodations, or places that served good wine and delicious puls made hearty with eggs, cheese, and honey. To further investigate these good omens, Aquila decided to spend several weeks there, and hastened forth to the city theatre's with the crowd of spectators several times, eager to enjoy superior acoustics. 

His mood sweetened by pantomimes and choral events, not to mention the food and drink and opportunities for the delights of the flesh that the slave discreetly indicated, Aquila greatly enjoyed his time in this marvellous city founded by well-reputed, honourable men Lucius Munatius Plancus and Marcus Aemilius Lepidus, and even wondered briefly if he should stay there for good. But upon consideration, Aquila decided to stick to his previous decision and wished to be reunited with his heart's friend Claudius Hieronimianus. The slave used many quaint words as he tried to persuade Aquila to stay in what must have been his native land, but achieved nothing, and so they left and continued further north.

However, as the days passed, the slave's insolence seemed fortified by the omnipresent smells of barley and roasted boar, and he performed his duties with such a manifest lack of enthusiasm that Aquila struggled to understand what might have been amiss – so great was the difference in the man's manner from the way he had behaved in Lugdunum, mostly quiet and content, to this shrewd and grumpy impertinence. Trying to get answers this way and that, Aquila gained no insight, and the slave continued muttering sullen prayers to Rhiannon and casting surreptitious glances at the shrubbery by the road until one fateful day, the two of them were ambushed by local barbarians.

Aquila was a tall, vigorous fellow of military expertise, and fought well as becomes an honourable man. However, he was quickly overcome by numbers in which the nefarious robbers came through the roadside bushes, and the treachery of his slave landed a final blow, for it was plain as day that the man had conspired with his fellow Gauls to rob Aquila of his precious cart of crockery and other civilised valuables, and money, and papers, and his beautiful weapons. They all spoke to each other with great camaraderie, if with different Gaulish accents, as they made off with the goods and the horses, Aquila's own mare as pliant and docile under the slave's hands as if she were really enchanted by all his whisperings invoking the name of the vicious horse-headed goddess of the tribes. Mounting the beast, the slave laughed heartily and gave Aquila, who was sprawled beaten and filthy on the ground, a cheeky wink before departing in great merriment, as if he were a free man just like his thieving long-haired bearded friends. Whether they were Senones or Bituriges Aquila could not say.

Thus, Aquila was left divorced of all his possessions, alone on a dirty road in Gaul, with the wind relishing a particularly mocking barbarian howl at his great misfortune.

Aquila was naturally most frustrated by his pitiful situation, and fell into a state of protracted bitterness. As he stumbled down the road, he tried to guess how much time would pass before he reached the next Roman town where he would be able to file a complaint and spend the last of the coin he had secretly sewn into his clothing on a jug of watered wine, that long-known source of consolation to many a woeful soul. But although Aquila's marching days were only very recently behind him, he could not outpace Apollo's chariot in the sky, and the tedious journey was longer and the muddy road worse than he had originally thought. By the time the evening was settling, Aquila's hunger and thirst overcame his stubbornness, and, forced to admit that he would not reach Roman justice or safe shelter by nightfall, he turned off the road to look for nourishment.

As he searched for the merry sound of a babbling brook, Aquila still pondered the unpleasant and painful altercation that had so thoroughly liberated him of the mundane weight of property. His wits sharpened by hunger and previous humiliation, Aquila felt a surge of powerful emotion, and loudly cursed himself for a fool. It was clear to him now that his misfortune was entirely due to his own pride and dim-wittedness. Had he heeded the slave's words with more attention, instead of sticking to his intentions with no consideration for new circumstances, he would have surely noticed the man's attachment to Lugdunum, a city obviously familiar to the man and close to his heart. Had he been more prudent and vigilant, he would have realised the man was nursing a grudge and plotting a cruel betrayal, all in order to make off with Aquila's money and start a jolly free life somewhere in the vast green Gaul, with his own tribe or some other. But no, he had spared no thought to the man's intelligence, and had had no inkling of the man's mercantile considerations, which had been thwarted by the fact that Aquila would not yield faced with Lugdunum's enticements. Instead, headstrong as always, he simply declared his wish to continue the journey all the way to cold and faraway Britannia. He now understood plainly how his decision had spurred the shrewd fellow to action, and could only bemoan and ridicule his own blindness, for surely all the conspiracy with the robbers had happened right under his nose, as they lingered over a meal in some ramshackle tavern and Aquila was too enthralled by dice or a pretty pair of legs to notice his slave secretly conferring with the locals.

What an arrogant fool!

Suddenly, Aquila's well-worn sandal encountered something slippery, and the next moment the slick pebble made him lose his balance and fall head over heels, landing soundly on his buttocks on the very edge of a tiny warbling spring. There Aquila drank to his heart's content, and splashed cool water on his face. A stone's throw away, half a dozen young trees clustered together with their crowns intertwined, providing an excellent shelter for the night. Moreover, as the early evening touched the grass with dew, he spotted large ripe berries glistening among the fine green stalks, and noted that his brief misery was about to be succeeded by a state of happiness and contentment, further fortified by a new understanding of worldly matters that grew inside his consciousness like a particularly plump mushroom after a torrent of benign rain.

His mind invigorated by profound contemplations, and his body replenished by clear water, Aquila was feeling wonderfully refreshed as he lay down on the ground and readied himself for the night. However, the first pleasant haze of sleep was abruptly dispelled by great stomping and loud laments. To his surprise, Aquila heard profanities bawled in impeccable Greek; the halting string of gross invectives was accompanied by neighing. At last, the person making all the dreadful noise showed themselves, and Aquila saw a centaur, pleasantly dark in coat and complexion, and easily as tall as the ones whom he had met while serving in Egypt and Hispania.

It was widely known that the centaurs of the Legions were skilled fighters, and sought honour in battle with perhaps more diligence than other soldiers of Greek origin; and if idle talk claimed that most of them were rowdy and immoderate with their passions, Aquila felt that he should be the first one to admit that these faults of character could gnaw at any man's reputation. Either way, Aquila had long held centaurs in great esteem on account of their prowess and intelligence in battle, and in his current enlightened state was determined to view any fellow creature with an open mind and an eagerness to appreciate their merits. Therefore, he neither felt nor showed fear or disgust as the newcomer plopped by the spring heavily, folded his legs, and proceeded to howl in horrible torment.

Seeing this display, Aquila sat up and crawled on all fours, until he and the strange centaur were directly in front of each other, with only the tiny quick ribbon of the spring between them, and spoke resolutely and kindly, presenting himself and inviting the centaur to share the burden of his grief.

Finding himself in unexpected company, the centaur calmed somewhat, and washed his face with water; seeing it without tear-streaks and ugly blotches of skin reddened by crying, Aquila had to conclude that he was quite handsome. As darkness began to creep upon them, the two shared the juicy berries Aquila had collected previously, and, taking heart, the centaur told his story.

He spoke as follows:

"My name is Agapetos and I am employed by the Procurator's Office in the city of Cenabum, which is the biggest and most important Roman city in these parts. Normally I make my living practising medicine and the art of divination, in the manner of my people, which is vastly different from the one to which the folk of Gallia Comata is accustomed. I have thus made a comfortable living for myself, using my clairvoyance to indicate the most auspicious beginnings for trade ventures and courtships, and to give moneylenders a credible estimate of their returns. In these matters most locals heed my counsel, even if they oppose my judgment on matters of health, and mostly use their own treatments," he added with a curl of his lip. 

He continued: "Nevertheless, a horrid misfortune has befallen me now. The Procurator, under the pretext of my superior divination skills, has imposed upon me an appointment as his investigator in a confusing and obscene matter, and I fear that this is not merely a job that pays shiny coin from the pocket of Rome, but one that will surely put me in great peril and maybe even death. To refuse the Procurator is, of course, impossible, but for the life of me I cannot figure out how to complete this fiendish task."

Full of compassion for Agapetos' predicament, Aquila gave a mournful sigh and prompted him to continue.

"There is a man in these parts who had once risen to great prominence in the Senate, but has since fallen out of favour with the gods, making many mistakes and even more enemies. Instead of ending his life like an honourable man, he continued to pursue libidinous excesses and squander his wealth. Following this lifestyle, the man's fortune quickly melted into nothing, until all he had left was a small villa not far from Cenabum. Here he lives in relative isolation, forgotten by the capital, but cruelly reminding us of his distasteful existence at every opportunity. 

"A week ago, a rumour spread that the vile man had dragged to his villa a maiden, seizing her by the hair as she was kicking and screaming, and is now keeping her captive. All the locals, from the potters and the smiths to the council members and the tax collectors, especially those who are of the Carnutes, are claiming that this maiden is a nymph of sorts, worshipped and admired by many on account of her prodigious skills. There is great anger and suspicion that the vile man is looking to bully and beat the nymph into bestowing some supernatural gifts upon him, for example, restoring his position and power. This matter is causing considerable unrest and confusion in Cenabum, and the Procurator is eager to get it off his hands. And so he has entrusted it upon me, as though it is some great honour to be turned away from the door with spite and disrespect, and to attempt to determine whether maidens exist anywhere but in fools' imaginations, and whether those hypothetical maidens are indeed nymphs or not. How can the citizens be reassured on this matter I know not, and the omens tell me nothing. The Procurator, on the other hand, told me in very plain words that if this matter is not solved to everybody's satisfaction, it will be on my head."

While Aquila certainly admired the cunning of the aforementioned Procurator, who had gotten rid of a vexing task in a rather clever way, he was also tortured on behalf of Agapetos, who was obviously in great distress, and justly so.

Disconsolate, wretched Agapetos cursed bitterly, for he saw no possible solution to his situation.

Seeing that by now the night was well advanced, and the pale apple of the moon was rolling from behind the clouds scattered about the skies, Aquila assured Agapetos that he would assist him in this endeavour to the best of his ability, and suggested that they examine the matter again with their strength and confidence restored by a night's rest. 

Encouraged by new assurances of friendship, Agapetos thanked Aquila profusely, then rose and crossed the spring, and caught Aquila in his arms. Finding this to be as good a night's merriment as any, Aquila clasped Agapetos and kissed him in return, and together they scaled the heights of indecency with unbridled enthusiasm.

Afterwards, when he was sated and falling asleep, Aquila inwardly rejoiced at the fact that he was quite thoroughly consumed by fire in Agapetos' embrace, because, them being men of the same age, this indicated that he, at least, had a definite preference for the exoleti, and should Claudius Hieronimianus later discover a similar inclination in his heart, this was all bound to work out very well.

In the morning, Aquila woke up wonderfully inspired and, rising from Agapetos' warm flank, which he had been using as a pillow, shook the centaur and hastened to tell him of the idea he had had. Then, inquiring more closely about the former Senator's villa and making sure he understood Agapetos' account of his previous luckless visit to the place correctly, Aquila took careful note of all the strategic points and drew a plan on the ground with a stick. Having agreed upon all the details to mutual satisfaction, Aquila and Agapetos then proceeded with the plan, which amounted to breaking into the villa and carrying off the maiden by centaur in classical Greek fashion. (Indeed, the wonderful idea surely came to Aquila's mind because of a play he had watched at the theatre in Lugdunum earlier.) This operation was exercised with military precision and great ingenuity, and several hours later, Agapetos was already halfway to Cenabum with the maiden on his back.

The red-haired creature turned out to be a true nymph of the environs, her dominion extending even to the spring which had witnessed the forging of the friendship between Agapetos and Aquila. Disgusted by the heinous man who had intented to overcome her will by continual insistence so that he could regain riches and respect, the nymph had many smiles for Agapetos, whom she thanked for her liberation from the room where she had been kept, rendered impotent to leave by some obscure druidic rituals that the former Senator had performed with poor understanding, but sadly to good effect. Petting his shoulder and his hip this way and that, the nymph murmured blessings and encouragements in Agapetos' ear, making him blush; Aquila, who was following on foot, found it all terribly amusing. However, instead of letting them take her to Cenabum to report to the Procurator's Office, the nymph said a few final words in a language neither of them understood, and dissolved in peals of laughter.

With that magical laughter still ringing in their ears and nothing on their hands, Agapetos and Aquila went on to Cenabum to meet their fate. There, they discovered that everyone somehow already knew what had happened, and had miraculously gained a great appreciation of Agapetos; the nymph's blessings having clearly taken effect, he was hailed as the Procurator's best man, and promised official appreciation and a great deal of money. Furthermore, arriving at Agapetos' house, they discovered that the centaur's circumstances had been magically improved, his house replaced by a better one, and the number of precious items and saved money within it vastly increased. Faced with such wondrous developments, Agapetos could only congratulate himself on his good fortune, as he did, and he gladly shared his newfound riches with Aquila, thanks to whose ingenious advice he had come to solve his problem, save the nymph, and gain great fame and prosperity.

Staying a few weeks in Cenabum, Aquila carefully dealt with all the official matters and, with great generosity and self-abnegation, made sure that a record was kept of a supposedly stolen manumission that he claimed he had given to his Gaulish slave. He then continued his way up north and across the sea to Londinium, from where he intended to reach the whereabouts of his dear friend Claudius Hieronimianus. He was now in possession of many carts of fine beautiful clothing, choice weapons, delicate crockery, precious stones, horses, and money to buy a villa if he so wished; and what was also important, his riches now included an influential and powerful friend in Gaul. 

Thus gladdened that the tide of fortune had brought him high again, and in excellent spirits, Aquila continued his journey in safety and dignity.

**Author's Note:**

> This story could have been called _Uncle Aquila's Amazing French Road Trip_.
> 
> Lugdunum was a real city (currently Lyon), and the Roman theatre was built next to the hill of Fourvière. Uncle Aquila in a crowd of spectators rushing forth through the vomitarium is historically accurate. The city was indeed founded by Lucius Munatius Plancus (Caesar's officer during the conquest of Gaul, later senator, consul and censor) and Marcus Aemilius Lepidus (patrician and triumvir with Octavian; not to be confused with his dad Marcus Aemilius Lepidus, consul, his son, Marcus Aemilius Lepidus the Younger, senator executed by Octavian, his brother Lucius Aemilius Lepidus Paullus, political rebel against Octavian, his nephew Paullus Aemilius Lepidus, senator, and all those other people called Aemilius Lepidus).
> 
> Cenabum was also a real city (currently Orléans), an oppidum of the Carnutes - so when Agapetos speaks of 'most, especially the Carnutes', he really means 'basically the whole town'. It was a very prosperous commercial city, so Agapetos is really well off there, with his independent business venture and unexpected side-job with the Procurator's Office.
> 
> Celts and Celtic mythology being notoriously diverse and complicated, sources give different accounts, but here Rhiannon is mentioned as a Rigantona (Great Queen) type Celtic Gaul deity, and described in the same style as Epona, who is associated with horses and sometimes described as having a horse's head. Rhiannon in the Welsh tradition is more documented, so in case some readers have strong feelings about Rhiannon and accurate references, I invite them to briefly suspend disbelief and accept the view of Claude Sterckx and Christian Guyonvarc'h, who suppose she is kind of a version of Epona. My artistic licence can be justified by the fact that Rhiannon just sounds more horse-like.
> 
> Agapetos, whose name means 'beloved' because no narrative means are too heavy-handed to indicate what a dashing charmer he is, practices medicine and prophecy like Chiron. The rest of the centaurs Aquila met were more of a classical carouser-and-brawler type. Centaur clichés abound.
> 
> Centaurs serve in the army because if the centaurs do exist in large numbers, Rome will find a way to integrate them and make them useful. It's Rome.
> 
> Uncle Aquila is such a Roman, and therefore a jerk in all the Roman ways. His personal development is still aligned with Roman values, but hopefully for the better anyway.
> 
> Emperor Galba is the only documented famous person who, while enjoying congress with men in the Roman fashion, preferred older men to youths. (So says Seutonius. This was considered eccentric. There is also much ado about the definition of the word exoletus, and, not to extrapolate too much, I use it simply in the sense of 'older men who are objects of other men's sexual desire'.)
> 
> The nymph is an anonymous minor local deity. The retired evil senator is purely fictional and not based on a true story.
> 
> The entrepreneurial slave who duped Uncle Aquila and made off with his belongings had rich backstory, motivation, and great depth of character. All of these regrettably remain off-screen because the story is written from Uncle Aquila's point of view, and he understands nothing. Coda: the man lived freely and happily ever after.
> 
> Uncle Aquila and Claudius Hieronimianus were very pleased to meet again, and also lived happily and prosperously ever after. All was well. The end.


End file.
